


The Price of Forgiveness

by celtic7irish



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU - No Powers, Afghanistan sort-of happened, Author regrets nothing, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky needs a hug, Getting Back Together, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Lack Of Professionalism, M/M, Minor Betty Ross, Minor Bruce Banner - Freeform, Minor James "Rhodey" Rhodes - Freeform, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Tony Needs a Hug, mention of Obadiah Stane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: Tony fell in love once.  And then his lover left without so much as a good-bye, and Tony moved on with his life.  Now, Bucky Barnes is back, hired to be Tony's personal assistant and hoping to pick up where they left off.  Can Tony learn to forgive him?  Will he risk opening his heart once more?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cheerydandan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheerydandan/gifts).



> Based off of the following prompts:
> 
> 1\. First kiss  
> 2\. Getting back together
> 
> Based off the following likes:
> 
> Tony and Rhodey friendship.

“Pepper, light of my life, apple of my eye, runner of my life,” Tony said, striding towards the office that he used when he had to conduct official Stark Industries business, “I know this looks bad, but you and I both know that I’ll probably do something far worse within the week, and the press will forget all about these stupid rumors.”

 

Pepper sighed over the phone.  “Tony, I’m well aware that you didn’t do anything with that...that woman,” she said, the hesitation more telling than her words.  “But that doesn’t matter. We can bury her in lawsuits, but right now, it’s he-said-she-said, and your reputation is working against us.”

 

Tony pursed his lips.  “Youthful indiscretions?” he tried.  Pepper made a vaguely strangled noise, and Tony sighed, his shoulders slumping.  He hadn’t actually had a one night stand since Afghanistan, but his reputation as a playboy was still as active as ever.  So when his last PA, a gorgeous brunette named Sunset Bain who was part tiger and part snake, had quit suddenly and then cried rape, the media had snapped it up like a bunch of piranhas smelling blood in the water.  Pepper was on top of it, of course, and Tony was pretty positive that it would blow over before the stocks even had time to take a hit, but in the meantime, Pepper was insisting that Tony hire a new Personal Assistant.  A male, this time.

 

Tony had never hidden the fact that he was bi-sexual, but he’d never been seen in public with a man, either.  And he’d most certainly never had a male personal assistant to help run his life.

 

“Can’t you do it?” he cajoled, keeping the whine from creeping into his tone. Mostly, at least.  “I mean, you practically run my life anyhow,” he added.

 

“And have the media imply that I’m sleeping my way to the top?” Pepper asked pertly.  “I don’t think so.” There was a pause, then a more tentative, “Tony, please. Just give the man a try, okay?  He’s more than qualified, and his clearance level is more than sufficient.” Meaning the guy was probably military.

 

Tony narrowed his eyes.  “Does Rhodey know about this?” he asked suspiciously.  “I feel like this is something he should know.”

 

Pepper’s tone was colored with amusement.  “One week, Tony. Just give him one week, and then you can fire him if you’re that unhappy, okay?”

 

“Can I have that in writing?” Tony asked, pausing in front of the door to his office.

 

“One week,” Pepper repeated, and then hung up.  Tony stared at the phone in his hand in betrayal.

 

“Jarvis?” he asked.  “What did I do to piss her off this time?”

 

 _“Would you like that chronologically or in degree of severity, sir?”_ the AI asked archly.  Tony sighed again, bracing himself.  He might as well get this over with, and then he could find a new assistant.  Or not.

 

One week, he told himself firmly.  Besides, it wasn’t like he had anything against male assistants.  He just didn’t want one.

 

“Maybe he’ll be competent, but unattractive,” Tony muttered to himself, twisting the handle and pushing the door open before he could think twice about it.  The man, who had been seated in one of the armchairs across from Tony’s desk, stood and turned around with a practiced smile.

 

“Mr. Stark,” he said, “it’s a pleasure to finally--” then he actually got  a look at Tony and froze. Tony, who was pretty frozen himself, just stared.

 

Then, flatly, “No.  No, we’re not doing this.  I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t hire you,” he told the other man.  The hot, sexy, well-built man with his long hair and his steel grey eyes and his lips that looked firm but were actually soft and perfect for kissing.  Tony had far too many memories of that mouth. And those legs. And that ass. Fuck. He couldn’t do this. Not...Pepper would have to find someone else. Anyone else.

 

“Tony?” Bucky Barnes asked, shock coloring his tone.  He didn’t get any further, though, because Tony backed straight out the door he’d just come in, slamming it behind him and turning away, striding down the hall and around a corner, leaving his first (and last) boyfriend standing in the middle of his office, out of a job and - Tony had thought - out of his life.

 

The last he’d heard, Bucky had made his way into some sort of covert government agency, Black Ops most likely.  Tony hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from him in more than seventeen years, and now he just waltzed right into Stark Industries as Tony’s personal assistant?  Did the universe hate him that much?

 

He was halfway down the street to his favorite coffee shop, his phone in his hand and ringing before he even realized what he’d done.  Rhodey picked up on the second ring. “Please tell me you didn’t really build a time machine,” he demanded, completely derailing Tony’s thought processes.

 

His mouth moved silently for a moment before he managed a reply.  “I’m sorry. Was I building one?” he asked, considering that as he opened the door to _Déjà Brew_ and waved at the girl manning the counter, who just threw him a wink and a thumbs up before leaving him to make his way to his favorite table and turning back to her customers.  It was entirely possible, he admitted to himself. He sometimes came out of an engineering binge with half a dozen projects scattered around him that had nothing to do with whatever his original plans had been.  He was pretty sure that he’d once created a clock like the one in Harry Potter that indicated where people were at any given time. He wondered idly what had ever happened to that.

 

“No!” Rhodey’s abrupt exclamation brought him back to the present.  “No, Tony, you were not creating a time machine. You’re right, what was I thinking? Forget I said anything.”  Yeah, like Tony was going to do that. “But seriously, man, what’s going on? You usually call me at some godawful hour of the morning, not in the middle of the day.”

 

And that brought them back full circle.  “It’s not even noon yet,” Tony pointed out, then blurted, “Pepper hired my ex as my new PA.”  He closed his eyes afterwards, a headache already forming.

 

Rhodey was silent for a long moment, while Tony waited impatiently for him to catch up.  “Which one?” the man asked at last.

 

Tony banged his head lightly against the table.  “The boy one,” he said, as if that explanation enough.  Unfortunately, it was.

 

“Oh,” Rhodey said.  Then, “Ohhhhh,” as realization dawned.  “As in the guy who dumped you and broke your heart while on a plane to parts unknown and didn’t even have the decency to tell you to your face?  That guy?” he asked, sounding angry now.

 

“That guy,” Tony confirmed with a grimace.  The barista - Heather, he remembered belatedly - set his drink down with a smile, and Tony handed her a hundred dollar bill.  Mouthing a silent thank you, Heather hurried back to the counter and her next batch of customers, a couple of teenagers who seemed more interested in flirting with her than in actually ordering anything.  Tony narrowed his eyes at them, but Heather didn’t seem particularly bothered, even going so far as to smile shyly at one of them, so he kept quiet for now. If they caused her any problems, though, he’d take care of it. This _was_ his favorite coffee shop, after all.

 

“Did you fire him?” Rhodey asked next.

 

“I...think so?” Tony replied.  “I mean, I kinda froze and then ran away, but I’m pretty sure I said something about him being fired.”

 

Rhodey’s sigh held a wealth of words, and Tony groaned, dropping his head to the table again.  “Rhodey, what do I do?” he asked.

 

“What do you mean, what do you do?” his best friend demanded.  “You fire him, and if he refuses, you dropkick his ass to the curb.”  Tony didn’t say anything, his fingertip rubbing along a groove in the tabletop.  He could hear the frown in Rhodey’s voice when he asked, “Tony? Please don’t tell me you’re still in love with the guy.”

 

“No!” Tony denied instantly. “Definitely not.  Probably. Maybe.” He winced. “Okay, so seeing him might have brought back a lot of feelings that I’d really rather not be having right now,” he admitted softly.  “And I can’t decide if I want to kiss him or kill him.”

 

“Oh, well, that’s normal, then,” Rhodey told him, settling down.  “But seriously, what are you going to do about it?” Rhodey asked. “We both know it’ll be a bad idea to keep him around as a PA.  You know what would happen if the media figured out what was going on.”

 

Tony hadn’t even considered that, actually, but Rhodey had a point. If the media got wind of the fact that Tony Stark’s newest PA was once Tony’s lover, it would set off a chain of events that not even legal and HR would be able to put a positive spin on.  “Dammit,” he muttered, finally grabbing his cup and taking a large gulp of the life-giving liquid inside, ignoring the way it burned his tongue and throat.

 

The bells on the door chimed merrily as the teenagers left, each of them holding a cup of something.  The door hadn’t even finished swinging shut before it was pulled open again, and Bucky Barnes stepped inside, his silver eyes taking in everything before finally settling on Tony, who ducked his head and started making plans to move to Timbuktu or something - maybe Heather would be up for a long vacation, too.

 

“Tony? What’s wrong?” Rhodey demanded.  Tony just whimpered. “Is he there? Where are you?  I’ll come and kick his ass personally.” Wow, Rhodey was really pissed if he was offering to ditch work to come save Tony from having to deal with _feelings_.

 

“I appreciate it, Sour Patch,” Tony said, trying for a light tone and failing by a mile as Bucky placed his order with the barista, his eyes on Tony the whole time (making sure he didn’t make a break for it, probably).  “I really do. But I can do this. What’s the worst that can happen?” He hung up before Rhodey could answer that, because he really didn’t want to know.

 

As Bucky approached him carefully, as one would a wild animal they were afraid might flee - or bite them - Tony offered him a cocky smile, the one that he used for press conferences and Board meetings.  “Pretty sure I fired you,” he said mildly.

 

Bucky shrugged, settling down in the seat across from Tony.  Heather gave Tony a look over Bucky’s head, and Tony made a small motion with his hand - he was fine, for the moment.  Bucky wouldn’t hurt him. “Pretty sure this isn’t Stark Industries, and a guy is free to get a cup o’ coffee wherever he likes,” Bucky replied just as mildly.

 

Tony snorted, lifting his cup to his mouth again and using it as an excuse to not talk for a moment.

 

“What do you want?” he asked at last.  Because really, they could do this dance all day and not get anywhere, and Tony was suddenly weary of everything.  Between the Board pressing for new tech to impress the shareholders and the scandal with Sunset and now the sudden reappearance of the one man Tony had thought to never see again, he was just...tired.

 

Bucky looked down at his own cup, then seemed to brace himself before looking back up and meeting Tony’s eyes.

 

“I wan’ a chance to apologize properly,” he said.  “An’....an’ maybe see if there’s anythin’ left between us.”  His hand reached out for Tony’s where it rested on the table.

 

Tony’s empty cup clattered to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a minor meltdown, but acknowledges that even now, he still loves Bucky. Steve shows up with a gift.

Tony strode into his Manhattan apartment and shut the door carefully behind him before he finally gave into the fear and the anger, trembling as he slumped against the door before sliding down to it to sit on the floor.  He released his breath in a long sigh, closing his eyes and letting his head knock lightly against the door.

 

His hand shifted, shaking at it reached helplessly into his pocket, pulling out a crinkled receipt.  On the back was written a ten-digit number. Bucky’s phone number. Tony should have thrown the damn thing in Bucky’s face and told him to never contact him again.  Instead, he’d just sat there like an idiot while Bucky talked, most of the other man’s words buzzing around him. Finally, Bucky had seemed to realize that Tony had more or less shut down, and with a sad smile, had simply apologized again and written his number of the back of his receipt, leaving it sitting on the table along with a promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

But he’d said that before, hadn’t he?  Promises whispered in the dark, a sure hand pinning him down, a heavy body curved over his protectively.  Tony had really thought he’d meant it, had allowed himself to believe that he could love Bucky because Bucky wouldn’t leave him.  He’d been such a damn fool.

 

And yet, the  _ look _ in Bucky’s eyes, like he knew how badly he’d messed up and was willing to do whatever it took to make it up to Tony.  Bucky had looked so damn sad, like the whole world was pressing down on his shoulders and he simply couldn’t bear its weight anymore.  It was a look that made Tony want to reach out to the other man, to reassure him that  _ of course _ he loved him, that he’d never stopped loving him.  But...was that what would be best for them? Both of them?  Tony knew that if he did this, if he took Bucky back, forgave him for ditching him and not even having the balls to do it to his face, and Bucky left again, he’d never recover.  Like, seriously, he’d probably become a hermit and live with his robots and a pet goldfish or something.

 

The knock on his door startled him out of his morbid thoughts, and Tony startled, one hand scrabbling for the phone in his back pocket and checking it to make sure he hadn’t missed a call from Rhodey or Pepper, both of whom would have no qualms about breaking into his place (never mind that they had a key) to shake some sense into him if they thought he needed it.  No missed calls, though, which meant that chances were that it wasn’t either of them. Rhodey would still be at base, and Pepper was probably still with her own personal assistant, Natasha, running Stark Industries as efficiently as ever. And here was Tony, slowly falling apart.

 

With a loud groan, he scrubbed his hands over his face.  “So help me, if that’s you, Barnes--” he started, then stopped, having no idea where he’d been going with that.

 

“Oh. So you’ve seen him, then,” a familiar voice said from the other side.  “I was starting to wonder when I didn’t hear from him.”

 

Narrowing his eyes - and hoping he didn’t look as awful as he felt - Tony reached out and yanked open the door, glaring at the slender blonde waiting on the other side, his art satchel hanging from his right shoulder.  “What do you want, Rogers?” he snapped, not in the mood to put up with the other man’s self-righteous bullshit.

 

Steve glanced behind him down the hall, then looked back at Tony.  “Look, could I maybe come in first? I have a few things that need to be said, and I’d rather not say them while standing in the hallway.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes - he owned this entire floor, so it wasn’t like anybody else was going to wander by and be nosy - but stepped back away from the door, turning away and heading for the kitchen, not caring if Steve followed him or not.  

 

Steve padded in after him, stopping just inside the door to slip off his shoes, his eyes wandering the room.  “You’ve got some new works,” Steve said, and he sounded approving. “At least three of these are from local artists.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “You can thank Pepper for that,” he said shortly, his hands moving confidently over the coffee machine.  He had a feeling he was going to need the caffeine. “She’s in charge of the decorating.” Actually, Pepper had very little to do with the interior of Tony’s apartment.  Stark Industries? Sure. Even the mansion, because events were hosted there for SI and the Maria Stark Foundation. But this was Tony’s place, and he mostly decorated it with whatever caught his eye.  There had been a street fair some months back that Tony had wandered through, and he’d seen a couple of drawings he’d liked, so he’d bought them. Pepper had brought Happy over to help frame and hang them up, though, because if it was left up to Tony, they would’ve remained on his coffee table for the foreseeable future.

 

Tony would never admit it, but he actually had some of Steve’s drawings, too, usually purchased through somebody else so as to not draw attention to his patronage.  Sure, it might help Steve’s reputation if somebody like Tony Stark was seen buying his works, but Steve was talented enough that he was never really hurting for new patrons.  Tony’s personal favorite, and the one he would never, ever tell Steve about, was a picture of a more dangerous Bucky than Tony had ever seen, titled simply  _ The Soldier _ .  Dressed in black leather and sporting a silver arm that had featured in more than one of Tony’s dreams, his silver-grey eyes stared out from the image, intense and predatory, as if he had just locked onto his target.  It was like a Bucky from some other universe, and yet, it was still  _ his _ Bucky.  Still the same long hair that Bucky liked to pull back into a sloppy bun, the same silver eyes that sparkled when he laughed, even the same jut to his chin that meant he was being doggedly stubborn. 

 

Tony had hung it in his bedroom as soon as he’d brought it home, and it had been there ever since, stalking Tony in his dreams.  It had probably been a bad idea (probably still was), but Tony had never seen another like it and couldn’t bring himself to regret the purchase.

 

“Look, Rogers, if you’re here to tell me that Barnes is really very sorry and that I should just forget and forgive, you can forget about it,” he said, preparing a second cup of coffee for the blonde man.

 

Steve accepted the mug with a quiet thanks.  “No, I’m not here for that,” he sighed. “I’m here because I was worried about you.  Bucky didn’t tell me about his new job until he came back afterwards. Or I would’ve warned him.”

 

Tony snorted.  “Warned him? About what? About the fact that being the personal assistant of the CEO of Stark Industries meant working for  _ Tony Stark _ ?”

 

“You didn’t use that name back then,” Steve retorted, a hint of judgment creeping into his voice. 

 

Tony winced.  “You know why,” he said quietly, his eyes not meeting Steve’s.

 

“Yes,” Steve agreed.  “But nonetheless, two idiots fell in love without knowing anything about each other.”  Tony didn’t answer, and after a moment, Steve sighed. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue, honest.  Or to try to convince you to give it another try. Bucky was wrong, leaving the way he did, I won’t deny that.  But…” Steve trailed off.

 

Tony looked up.  “But?” he prompted, knowing there was more.  And as much as he hated to admit it, curiosity was winning out over his reluctance to have anything to do with one James Buchanan Barnes.

 

Steve’s expression shifted, like he wanted to say something, and then changed his mind.  Finally, he set down his empty cup and pulled the satchel off his shoulder, opening it and pulling out a stack of paper.  “I probably should have given you these a long time ago,” he said, “but he made me promise not to.” Correctly interpreting the look on Tony’s face, he clarified, “Letters from Bucky.”

 

“For you?” Tony asked, frowning.  Why would Steve want to show him letters that Bucky had written to him.

 

“Well, yes,” Steve admitted.  “But these are all the ones that ask about you.”  His hand shifted idly through the letters, knocking them out of their careful pile.  “Well, about Tony Edwards.” His lips quirked.

 

Despite his rapidly weakening resolve, Tony’s eyes were drawn to the letters.  “Why give them to me now, then?” he demanded. “Why not when he sent them?”

 

“Because he didn’t know if he’d make it back alive,” Steve said grimly.  Tony flinched, and Steve shook his head. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Bucky was right, I’m terrible at explanations.”

 

Tony huffed a laugh.  Weren’t they all? 

 

“Is Bucky staying with you?” he asked, moving over to stand next to Steve, his hand brushing the edge of the table, though he didn’t touch the letters, not yet.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they said.

 

Steve shrugged.  “Until he gets his own place, yeah,” he admitted.  

 

Tony nodded; he’d figured as much.  Steve and Bucky were like brothers; you rarely found one without the other.  Bucky’s leaving had been hard on Steve, too. Which was, Tony considered absently, probably why the two of them were friends.  Shared grief and all that, if for different reasons. Bucky had left a hole when he’d left, and Steve and Tony had grown closer as a result.  They’d never be more than friends, but it was enough, for them.

 

Steve shifted awkwardly, then reached for his now-empty bag.  “I should be going,” he said quietly. “I’m subbing at the university today.  I just wanted to make sure I dropped these off.”

 

Tony didn’t reply, and after a moment, Steve sighed and turned away, heading for the door.  His hand was on the knob when Tony spoke up quietly, making him pause. “Thank you.”

 

Steve nodded.  “Any time,” he said.  And then he was gone, leaving Tony standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at a pile of letters and wondering when he’d grown so weak.

 

With a trembling hand, Tony reached out.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony rifled through the papers on his desk, though he’d already memorized them.  It was just an excuse to not have to look at the man sitting in the chair on the other side of his desk, obviously uncomfortable and trying not to show it.  Tony was okay with that. At least it was awkward for both of them.

 

“You have top security clearance, Mr. Barnes,” he observed, fighting to keep his tone neutral.

 

“Yes, sir,” Bucky answered, following Tony’s lead and falling into a more professional language.

 

Tony swallowed.  “And you are aware of what Stark Industries does, correct?” he asked next.

 

“Yes, sir,” Bucky replied again.  There was a tense pause, and Tony glanced up just in time to see Bucky bite his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth for a moment as he fought the urge to add to it.  He settled again, and Tony sighed, shoving the papers away and folding his hands on top of his desk, finally meeting Bucky’s eyes.

 

Taking a deep breath, Tony decided to just go for it.  What was the worst that could happen?

 

Ignoring the part of his brain that was busy listing every single thing that could possibly go wrong in the next five minutes, Tony said, “Look, Barnes, we both know how this is going to go.  You’re the best candidate for the position, our personal history notwithstanding. I have been given a very detailed list about why it is necessary that I hire a male personal assistant. I even agree with some of them.  I am willing to offer you the position on a trial basis, provided you can give me your assurance that our relationship will remain strictly professional.”

 

Bucky kindly didn’t laugh at him, though he did give him a look that clearly stated Tony was probably asking for too much.  But he nodded. “I understand, Mr. Stark,” he answered. “And I thank you for the opportunity. Miss Potts provided me with a general overview of my duties and your personal schedule.  Is there anything that you need to add? Or anythin’ that I need to sign?”

 

Tony shook his head.  “That was the point of the Top Secret security clearance,” he pointed out.  “Also, I’m given to understand that you are SCI-cleared as well.” Bucky nodded.  “Very well. Then the generic NDA’s that Miss Potts has already provided you with should be sufficient.”

 

He stood up and held out his hand for Bucky to shake.  “Welcome to SI, Mr. Barnes,” he said blandly. “Your first official day starts tomorrow at seven-thirty.  If you have any questions, you can direct them to Jarvis.” Bucky had already been filled in regarding the AI, though Tony suspected that he wasn’t aware of just how intelligent Jarvis really was.

 

_ “I look forward to working with you in sir’s best interests, Sergeant,”  _ the AI greeted tactfully, and Tony grinned at the hint of a threat in his tone.  Jarvis was the best.

 

Bucky nodded.  “Uh, yeah,” he said, shifting a bit nervously.  “Me, too, I mean.” He stopped, blushed, then sighed.  “‘M still not used to this,” he admitted, gesturing around the office.  Tony wasn’t sure if he meant SI, Tony, or a civilian job, but it didn’t matter.

 

“Welcome to the future, Mr. Barnes,” he said wryly, opening the door to his office pointedly.  Bucky took the hint and left, but not before shooting Tony a wistful look.

 

As soon as Tony shut the door behind him, his phone was in his hand, halfway to dialing Rhodey’s number.  He paused, grimacing as he realized that Rhodey was probably still running the new trainees through basic drills and that he probably shouldn’t bother him.  And Pepper was out; she still didn’t know that Bucky was his ex. Steve didn’t need to be caught between them anymore than he already was.

 

Before he could talk himself out of calling up Happy just to have somebody to bitch to, there was a knock on his office door.  Tony startled, then shoved his phone back into his pocket and turned around to open the door. “This had better be worth my time,” he grumbled as he pulled it open, then froze, staring at Bucky, who had his hand raised as if he was going to knock again.

 

Tony blinked. “Ah,” he stammered.  “Did you forget something?” He looked behind him as if he was actually going to see something that Bucky had left behind.  Considering the man hadn’t come in with anything, that would’ve been some feat.

 

“Not ‘xactly,” Bucky answered.  “I jus’...if my firs’ day isn’t until tomorrow, I was wonderin’ if maybe we could talk?  Get the...non-professional stuff outta the way?” he asked tentatively, stumbling over the words.

 

It was a bad idea.  Tony knew it was a bad idea.  Horrible, even. No good was going to come of them rehashing a broken relationship.  Tony should do the right thing and politely decline Bucky’s invitation, keep it professional.

 

“Tony,” Bucky said softly.  “Please.”

 

And Tony’s resolve broke.  Against all reason, he wanted this, wanted it badly enough to risk his heart one more time.

 

He nodded.  “Sure,” he agreed, “why not?  Jarvis, cancel everything.”

 

_ “Sir?” _ Jarvis asked, his tone vaguely judgmental.

 

Tony grimaced.  “Just do it. Unless lives are at stake, cancel or reschedule, I don’t care.  Pepper will deal with it.” Of course, she’d probably be livid, but really, Tony reasoned, this was all her fault in the first place for setting up an interview with Tony’s ex before clearing it with him.  Ignorance was not a valid excuse.

 

Bucky smiled, relieved.  “Thank you, Tony,” he said, his tone fairly vibrating with sincerity.

 

Tony snorted.  “Don’t make me regret this,” he warned the other man, closing the door to his office and letting Bucky lead the way.  He told himself that he was relieved - just relieved - when that Bucky didn’t try to so much as take his hand, much less kiss him.

 

The elevator ride was made in silence, and Tony wondered idly where they were headed.  It was obvious from the set of Bucky’s jaw that he had something specific in mind. Tony touched the phone in his pocket, reassured by its slight weight.  Jarvis was in the phone as well, so he would be able to track Tony to wherever they were going.

 

Bucky brought them to the employee garage, making his way down the rows until he stopped in front of a sleek silver bike with a red star painted on either side.  Tony’s eyes widened as Bucky handed him a spare helmet. “‘Rememb’r how to ride?” Bucky asked, holding his own helmet. Tony nodded wordlessly before fitting it over his head, his mind tripping helplessly over memories of long afternoons spent riding on Bucky’s bike, just driving past the city limits and stopping when they felt like it, to eat or sleep or make love.  This was a new bike, but the feel of it between his legs was just as powerful and arousing as ever as Bucky coaxed it to life.

 

Tony shifted, pressing his chest against Bucky’s back, his hands gripping the other man’s hips but keeping some distance between them as Bucky made their way down the garage ramp and turned onto the main street before releasing the throttle.  The bike jumped under Tony, and he grabbed tighter with a yelp, pressing himself against Bucky’s back from chest to thigh. With a wild yell, Bucky tore down the street, weaving through New York traffic like it was standing still. Tony quickly fell into a familiar rhythm, letting the feel of the bike and Bucky’s own body tell him when to lean into a curve or press forward.

 

It was so easy to let himself believe that this was just another spur-of-the-moment trip as they left Manhattan behind and crossed over the bridge into Brooklyn.  Tony finally thought to ask, “Where are we going?” He had to yell over the sound of the wind.

 

Bucky yelled back, but Tony couldn’t catch his words, so he just shrugged and settled in for the ride.  It wasn’t like it really mattered anyhow.

 

As they pushed further into the city, Tony started taking note of some of the more familiar buildings.  “Seriously?” he demanded, incredulous. “What is this? Are you taking me home to meet your parents?” Not that either of them had parents, but Tony supposed that Steve could fill in if necessary.

 

Slowing down in front of a familiar brownstone apartment, Bucky waited until he’d parked the bike and climbed off, removing his helmet and grinning at Tony.  “Dad’s out,” he informed Tony, who snorted in amusement. “He’s got some swanky art thing happenin’ over in the Upper East Side.”

 

Tony vaguely recalled Pepper mentioning something about an art exhibit opening in one of the Carnegie Hill museums.  “Good for him,” he mumbled, following Bucky up the stairs to the front doors. As they approached, the doors opened and a young woman slipped out, pausing when she saw Bucky. 

 

“Oh, James!” she exclaimed, smiling.  Bucky smiled politely back at her, one hand pressing gently against the small of Tony’s back, hurrying them past the woman, who watched them intently.

 

“Stalker?” Tony suggested cheekily once they were inside.  Bucky glanced over at him and shook his head, but didn’t say anything more, and Tony frowned.  He looked back over his shoulder, but the woman was gone, and Bucky was still moving them forward.

 

They took the stairs, despite Tony’s protests, and exited the stairwell on the third floor.  Bucky stopped at Apartment 305 and unlocked the door before gesturing Tony inside. As soon as the door was closed behind him, Bucky answered Tony’s earlier question.  “Co-worker,” he said shortly.

 

Tony considered that.  “Spy?” he asked.

 

Bucky gave him a wry smile.  “Not quite,” he replied, but refused to say anything more, even when Tony gave him his best puppy eyes.  “Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” was all he said, and Tony sighed.

 

“Fine,” he grumbled, looking around. The apartment was surprisingly open and airy, with two main rooms off the foyer and a long corridor on the other side of the living room that probably led to bedrooms and the like.  “Nice place you’ve got here,” he observed.

 

Bucky shrugged.  “It’ll do for now,” he said.  “Until I find a place of my own.”

 

Tony glanced over at him, resisting the urge to point out that he owned an entire apartment floor in Manhattan, never mind Stark Mansion, which took up an entire block all by itself.  Even if he and Bucky didn’t have so much baggage between them, it would be too soon to offer something like that. Instead, he just said, “Stark Industries offers reduced housing for its employees close to the office.  The paperwork was probably in whatever orientation packet Pepper gave you.”

 

Bucky nodded.  “Yeah, I saw,” he acknowledged.  “Wanted to get settled in before I think ‘bout movin’ again.”  He eyed Tony sideways. “Besides, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”

 

“Pretty sure Steve would’ve been okay with you staying here forever,” Tony pointed out casually.

 

Bucky snorted.  “Yeah, ‘cause that’s what either of us needs righ’ now,” he commented.  “Pretty sure the therapist thinks I’m codependent or somethin’ stupid like that, livin’ with Stevie.”

 

“You see a therapist?” Tony blurted, then covered his mouth with both hands and stared at Bucky with wide eyes.  He hadn’t meant to say that.

 

Bucky gave him a wry grin.  “Yeah,” he said. “I...wasn’t in th’ best place when I got back,” he admitted.  “Stevie tol’ me I should go see one. I didn’ want to, but he found one that came highly recommended and I went.  He’s...pretty awesome, actually,” he mused.

 

Tony snorted.  Great, if he had known that Steve had been looking into a therapist for  _ Bucky _ , he probably would’ve suggested someone else.  He wondered if Doctor Banner had put two and two together yet and realized that Bucky was the man that Tony spoke of every now and again.  Not that it really mattered; Banner took patient confidentiality very seriously. And conflict of interest. If Bucky hadn’t just outed himself, Tony would’ve never known. And if Banner had figured it out, he probably would have transferred Bucky to one of his fellow associates.

 

He still made a mental note to check out Banner’s partner and see if she might prove an acceptable substitute.  Doctor Ross had been with Banner for nearly two decades now, so he was sure that she was equally qualified to handle someone of Tony’s rather unique status.  The idea still made him uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as knowing that everytime he mentioned the heartbreak caused by an old flame that had left him reluctant to reach out on an emotional level, he was talking about another one of Doctor Banner’s patients.  Ugh.

 

“Tony?”  Bucky’s curious look snapped Tony out of his spiraling thoughts.  He dropped his hands sheepishly. 

 

“Yeah, sorry,” he answered, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.  He wasn’t the greatest at social interactions, but he was pretty sure sitting down while Bucky was still standing would be rude.  Probably. “I don’t mind, you know,” he added when it looked like Bucky was starting to frown. “I mean, everybody needs someone to talk to sometimes, yeah?”  Including him, but that was a completely different mess.

 

Bucky considered him, then nodded, offering him a small smile.  “Yeah,” he agreed. Then he seemed to realize that he was being a poor host.  “Please, sit anywhere,” he offered. “Can I get you somethin’ to drink? I’ve got….water and cola,” he said after perusing the contents of his fridge.

 

Tony grinned.  “Water, please,” he said.  Bucky reached into the fridge and grabbed two sealed bottles before walking back into the living room, where Tony had settled on the couch.  Apparently remembering Tony’s dislike of being handed things, he dropped the bottle onto the couch next to him, still sealed. Tony smiled gratefully and picked it up, cracking it open before taking a few sips.

 

Twisting the cap back on, Tony rolled it between his hands, watching his hands rather than looking at Bucky.  “So…” he started.

 

“So,” Bucky agreed, then sighed heavily.  “Okay, so the doc told me that I should jus’ start at th’ beginnin’,” he said.  Tony gave a wry grin; Banner had told him the same thing, until he’d realized that Tony’s mind just didn’t work like that.  So he’d be allowed to go off on tangents that the doctor would then reroute back around to the original question and answer.  It worked surprisingly well.

 

“I guess I should start with admittin’ that when I met you, I was already with special ops,” Bucky said.  Tony jerked in surprise, and Bucky gave him a wry grin. “Yeah, my superiors didn’ think it was importan’ to tell me jus’ who I was s’pposed to be protectin’, just that I was needed undercover at Stark Industries.  Where I met this real cute guy with a wicked sense of humor and a smart mouth that flirted and scolded and ran about a million miles a minute.” He shrugged. “I didn’ know you were the boss,” he said, grimacing. “All the pictures were of an older guy.  Seemed kinda stuck-up.”

 

Tony choked out a surprised laugh.  “Yeah, that would’ve been my dad,” he said.  

 

“I know that  _ now _ ,” Bucky told him, smiling.  “But I...I let m’self believe, for a while, that I could have that, that I could flirt and tease and hang out and fall in love.  It was stupid to do, but...I can’t regret it, neither. ‘Specially after realizin’ that it was  _ you _ I was s’pposed to be watchin’ all along.”

 

Tony stared hard at Bucky.  “You were supposed to be undercover, watching me,” he said flatly.  Bucky nodded, his expression pained, and Tony’s expression shuttered as he thought that over, not giving Bucky anything to work with.  Bucky Jameson had joined Stark Industries as part of the security team for R&D, which was really just a joke, since most of the danger in R&D came from within, when they accidentally melted a table or blew something up.  There was no outside danger, which is why being put on security duty in R&D often led to the guards being dubbed Nerd Herders.

 

“You knew,” he said at last.  “Or, whoever you were working for knew, didn’t they?  About Obie?” He nearly choked on the name, the pain of the man’s attempted betrayal still as sharp as the day he’d realized what had happened.  Obadiah Stane, his father’s best friend and business partner, had sold Tony out. He’d been selling Stark Industries weapons to terrorists on the sly, and when Tony had finally wised up and grown suspicious, he’d sold Tony’s location to the very terrorists that had his weapons.

 

Bucky nodded.  “Yeah,” he agreed softly, his eyes sympathetic.  Tony turned away.

 

“If you knew, then why did you leave?” he asked.  “I mean, I didn’t get a text or anything. One day we were making plans to fly out to Malibu, and the next, you were just gone.  Not a word of goodbye.”

 

“I wanted to,” Bucky said, shifting forward, his tone earnest.  “But we got word that something was going down, and that the head of Stark Industries had a price on his head.  So they pulled me, confiscated my phone, anything that could be used to trace me. I didn’t even have time to say good-bye to Steve, much less to Tony Edwards.”

 

Tony wasn’t stupid; he heard what Bucky was saying.  “Afghanistan,” he said dully. “The thwarted attack. That was you?”  He felt stupid now. Bucky had told him that he had another job that might call him in, but Tony hadn’t thought he’d meant  _ immediately and forever _ .

 

Bucky sighed.  “Yes,” he agreed unhappily.  “We were supposed to be Stark’s - your - detail, but the convoy left unscheduled and in an unplanned direction.  We couldn’t do anything but track you. It was only a couple hours, but by that time, you were already under attack.”

 

Tony’s eyes were closed, his body still as he fought back memories of heat and sand and blood.  The soldiers had been so young. It was supposed to be an easy job; escort the wealthy weapons dealer from the test site back to the airport, and that was it.  Four, five hours tops. Instead, they’d lost their lives protecting the man who’d designed the very weapons that had killed them.

 

Unthinking, Tony’s hand rose and clenched in his shirt, fisting the material as he swallowed.  He’d been hit with shrapnel, but it had mostly been superficial; another body had slammed into him, shielding him from the worst of the blast.  He wondered what had happened to that person.

 

“Where?” he managed at last.  “Where were you?” He didn’t remember seeing Bucky there, and even concussed, he was pretty sure he would’ve recognized his lover if he’d seen him.

 

Bucky was biting his lower lip again, his eyes searching.  “You really don’t remember,” he said, sounding almost relieved.

 

“Remember?” Tony asked, frowning.  “Remember what?” When Bucky’s expression shifted to something almost hesitant, Tony reached out, grabbing him by the collar.  “Remember what?” he repeated, demanding now.

 

“I was there,” Bucky said.  “I just...kinda hoped it never came up.”

 

“Then you shouldn’t have come back at all,” Tony snapped back, impatient.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

 

Bucky’s right hand came up and covered Tony’s where it was fisted in his collar.  Tony’s grip loosened immediately,and Bucky used the chance to slip away. He didn’t go far, though, just enough that he could pull his shirt over his head before twisting around to present Tony with his back.

 

Tony gasped; Bucky’s back was covered in a mass of twisted, raised scars.  He whimpered, his hand reaching out and touching the longest of them, one that ran from Bucky’s left shoulder nearly to his right hip, bisecting his spine.  Bucky stiffened, and Tony pulled back with a startled, “Sorry!” 

 

Bucky shook his head.  “‘S’fine,” he said. “You c’n touch.  They’re jus’ a little sensitive sometimes.”

 

Tony waited another moment to see if he’d change his mind, but when Bucky just sat there, his head bowed, he reached out again, his finger tracing lightly over the scar before moving onto the others.  The worst of the damage seemed to be around his left shoulder, where it curved up and over towards his chest. He paused when he realized that he was no longer touching anything that resembled skin. “What?” he asked, pulling his hand back in startlement.

 

Bucky snorted.  “Figures you’d notice.  Mos’ people don’t,” he said, reaching for the simple band he wore on his left wrist.  A moment later, the flesh arm vanished as if it had never been there, and Tony was left staring breathlessly at an arm made entirely of metal, though it was a metal he’d never seen before.

 

“You’re him,” he breathed, his hand reaching out and touching the shoulder, watching as tiny plates shifted and whirred under his touch.  Bucky hadn’t moved an inch since he’d removed his shirt, and Tony suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He all but threw himself at Bucky’s back, causing the other man to make a sound of surprise as he adjusted to support the extra weight.  “You’re the soldier. The one who protected me.” He hadn’t realized it was Bucky, not with the face mask and goggles. And, of course, the guy had also just had his arm blown off. Tony wasn’t sure he would’ve believed it was Bucky even if he’d been told.

 

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted ruefully.  “Stevie gave me an earful when he finallly caugh’ up.”

 

Tony snorted.  “I’ll bet.” He paused.  “Wait. Rhodey. I remember Rhodey being there.  How come he didn’t recognize you, either?”

 

“Your friend Rhodes?” Bucky asked.  “I dunno when he got there. You were taken to the hosp’tal.  I was taken back to Headquarters. I didn’t even know fo’ sure if you were alive until Stevie told me,” he admitted.

 

“Is Steve one of them, too?” Tony asked, then paused, confused.  “One of you? A spy? Or a soldier? He doesn’t seem like the type.”  Not with that scrawny frame of his.

 

Bucky chuckled.  “Naw,” he said. “Stevie’s more like...a consultant or somethin’.  An outside specialist. But nobody asked ‘im to check on you. He did that himself.”

 

“My savior, and I never even got to thank you,” Tony murmured, still reeling with disbelief.  He had thought the soldier who’d thrown himself on top of Tony to be dead. Or at the very least, probably paralyzed for life.  And yet, here he was, sitting on the couch in a crappy apartment, baring his heart and his scars in the hope that perhaps Tony would be willing to try again.  Oh, god.

 

“You c’n thank me now,” Bucky suggested, twisting around, his shirt still in his hands.  He went to put it on, and Tony put his hand out, stopping him. Bucky looked at him, then lowered his shirt.  

 

Tony gave him a brilliant smile.  “There you are, my gorgeous soldier,” he murmured.  “And you’re absolutely right. I  _ can _ thank you now, can’t I?”  Bucky had suffered so much, paid such a high price, and all without knowing if Tony would even remember him.  Or care. But he was wrong. And Tony was going to prove it to him. Right now.

 

“What would you like for your reward?” he purred, fluttering his lashes exaggeratedly.  

 

Bucky laughed, a weight lifting from him even as Tony watched.  “Well, if you don’ mind all the scars and the arm, then how ‘bout...hmm...a kiss?” he asked.

 

Tony smirked.  “You have an arm made with tech that I’ve never seen before,” he said, crawling forward between Bucky’s legs and pushing the other man onto his back.  Bucky went willingly enough, and Tony grinned down at him. “I might love the arm, just a little bit,” he admitted.

 

Bucky laughed, and Tony leaned down to kiss that gorgeous smile, his body falling easily into the familiarity of it.  Bucky had always been an excellent kisser, knowing seemingly on instinct when to open up to Tony’s questing tongue, or when to press forward with his own urgent kisses, leaving Tony flushed and breathless.

 

Bucky’s arms came up and gripped Tony’s biceps, the metal one slightly cooler than the flesh one, and Tony just groaned, pulling back from the kiss - much to Bucky’s chagrin - and turning his head to kiss the metal before giving the other arm the same treatment.  When Bucky stretched up to claim another kiss, Tony turned his head with a grin. “Ah ah ah,” he chastised. “You didn’t specify  _ where _ you wanted me to kiss you,” he pointed out.

 

Bucky’s indignant sound of protest was silenced when Tony leaned down and mouthed over his collarbone, worrying the flesh between his teeth before pulling back and working his way down Bucky’s body, using the other man’s gasps and moans to direct his efforts, not shying away from the handful of scars that dotted Bucky’s chest.  He left the ones around the prosthetic alone for now, until he could be sure he really wouldn’t hurt the other man, but he kept a hand on the metal arm at all times, finding it just as beautiful and irresistable as the rest of Bucky.

 

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when Steve came home less than twenty minutes later, interrupting what was promising to be a very sexy blowjob.  Steve’s complaints and Bucky’s cussing drowned out Tony’s laughter.

 

And when Steve met Tony’s eyes and gave him a small, approving smile, Tony glowed.


	4. Chapter 4

They were lying together in Tony’s large bed, breathing hard as they caught their breath.  They’d moved away from the wet spot, but hadn’t bothered to rouse beyond that. Tony’s head was pillowed on Bucky’s chest, his lover’s metal arm wrapped loosely around Tony’s hips and resting at the base of his spine, the cool metal lovely against Tony’s heated flesh.

 

“How mad was she?” Bucky murmured curiously.

 

Tony’s lips curled up into a small smile. “I probably owe her an island or something,” he admitted.  “I mean, the whole reason she hired a male PA was because the last one cried sexual harassment.” Bucky hummed, and Tony asked, “How mad was he?”

 

“Stevie?” Bucky asked.  Tony nodded, his goatee brushing against Bucky’s chest and making the other man twitch under him, metal fingers pressing lightly against Tony’s back.  “He jus’ looked at me and tol’ me that I wasn’t allowed to have sex in the apartmen’ if he was present. An’ not anywhere he was gonna sit later.”

 

Tony lifted his head at that, crossing his arms on Bucky’s chest so he could grin down at the man.  “So it’s fine as long as he’s not home?” he asked mischievously. “And besides, how will he know _where_ we have sex, as long as we clean up first.

 

Bucky laughed, a full-throated sound that shook the both of them.  “Yeah, but we’ll have to at least lock th’door,” he pointed out.

 

Tony pouted.  “What’s the fun in that?”  Bucky just grinned, and Tony settled back down.  They’d have to get up soon and take a shower, but for now, he was content to just lay there, basking in the afterglow.  The two of them still had things to talk about, of course, but heavy emotional conversation could wait while Tony enjoyed the afterglow.

 

They lay in silence for a few more minutes, before Tony finally got the courage to ask, “Why didn’t you send me letters?”

 

Bucky’s hand paused for just a moment where it was petting Tony’s hair before resuming its gentle comb-through as he thought.  “Well, at firs’ I knew you were gonna be mad at me for leavin’, and I was scared,” he admitted. “Also, I had hoped that maybe the mission wouldn’t take long and I could come back, explain t’ you in person.”

 

Tony snorted.  “And then you realized that I was the rich asshole you were supposed to be protecting,” he surmised.

 

Bucky chuckled.  “Somethin’ like that,” he agreed.  “I mean, it was kinda obvious when we got there.”  He sighed. “But it wasn’t fast ‘nough, and you got hurt, and I got hurt.  I didn’ even realize how long I was under until Stevie tol’ me. And by then, I figured you’d forgotten.  Moved on.”

 

“I never moved on,” Tony swore.

 

“I know,” Bucky answered, and that was it.  No promises that they’d be together forever no.  No accusations that Tony had lied to him, or apologies for his own lies.  Just an acknowledgment that neither of them had forgotten, that neither of them had moved on from those couple of months they’d had together, before everything had gone to hell.

 

And somehow, that was enough.  For both of them.


End file.
